Breathless: Immersive RP and the Muse's Health Propaganda
by Daifuku Mochiin
Summary: A coming-of-age story about pretense, mortality and fashion dreams. "If I say none, will you do something about it?"


_I._ _Sophisticated, Not Sophisticated_

It was the onset of rush hour into the night and the moving headlights shine instead of the stars. Sasuke lit his cigarette. It's been more than half a year since he started.

As the smoke rose from the dormitory window into the _bokeh_ of city lights, the screeching tires and occasional beeping horns, he enters a cathartic state. In his trance he is a better wielder of colors, patterns and complex critical concepts. All creativity in the universe seeps through the wondrous, fragrant paper tube into him. He is a new person and in his veins run the restless zest of the city.

Succinct, confident strokes found its definition on his sketchbook; delicate, elongated lines and curves of a woman. Her shoulders are bare and her legs are made of ideals; he traced a peculiar line to accentuate that feature with a slit in the long skirt.

 _Sophistication, sophistication._

Then with a vibrant shade of jade green he colored her wild eyes taunting him. In this world she only looks at him. For her hair, a ravishing, pastel pink - a sensual fire; the full glamorous gown, he blotted high-spiritedly with dark ink.

He sucked on his cigarette before tipping the ashes outside the open window, eyes burning darkly at his sketch.

"Are you done with pattern drafting?" His roommate got up from bed, blinking lazy bloodshot eyes at him.

Sasuke bade confirmation with a strained hum.

"I'm so dead. It's due tomorrow! I haven't started a damn thing!" said the panicked Toneri, hopping as a skinny frog does in a mossy lake onto Sasuke's bed.

"Of course you haven't." His sketchbook snapped close. Sasuke twisted down the cigarette butt and flicked it out the window. Chattering university students strolled along the sidewalk. "A freshman drunk _every_ single night: clubbing, fashion school - It's a matter of mutually exclusive options, Toneri. You can't do both."

"Oh, Master Sasuke!" Toneri raised his hands in the air then bringing them down flat on the floor in an act of mock worship, kneeling. "Master Sasuke, please! Just this once."

For someone born with a silver spoon in their mouth, Toneri is a helpless, herbivorous man born in a predatory world. He could afford luxuries like silky bleached curls or eccentric polychrome hair from Harajuku; his own sports car at eighteen; VIP seats at clubs and fashion shows; but Sasuke is sure that none of those will save him from the mess that is going to be his life.

"It's never just once, isn't it?" He deadpanned, all too familiar with Toneri's antics.

"Just this once, Master Sasuke! Please! Help me with Teach Kuwakubo's activity. You know 'bout her crazy eyes. Gives me the chills" - he shuddered - "Clubbing's the only thing keeping me alive in this country. The air's too humid, the people are -"

"No."

"Come on. What's the point of our history? Our camaraderie?" Toneri got up to roost on Sasuke's bed.

"What are you talking about?"

"I gave you your first cigarette, bro. That's history right there. Remember you almost choked? Hah!"

Sasuke scoffed. After neatly depositing his sketchbook and coloring apparatus inside his wooden desk drawer, he pushed it back with a loud thud. "That doesn't amount to anything."

"I caused your first beer _and_ \- And club entrance."

"How sure are you about that? You don't know the first thing about me."

"Oh, I know." Toneri brazenly crossed his arms, tossing a breezy smile. "My godmother's the school head, remember? Though I can't talk my way into getting high marks, I know almost everyone at school. I did background check, Uchiha of Konoha Village, background check."

"Go to hell, you rich bastard." Hearing his hometown's name got Sasuke literally burying his face in one of his hardbound books.

Every Thursday, he borrows books from the library to immerse himself in over the weekend and this one in particular smelled like pine wood, wax and something toxic like third year and fourth year students' sweat vying for the last copy. _Fabric Manipulation_ , it said in Japanese.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul, bro." Toneri chuckled as he flung an arm around Sasuke. "We're buddies. I'm not like, like, _evil_. This isn't blackmail, alright? In fact to encourage you, we're going clubbing tomorrow night, hn? What do you say?"

"No," he curtly replied. "I won't humor any more of your dragging me down your idiosyncrasies. I had enough with cops and drunk driving." Waiting for bail inside prison isn't exactly how he wanted to spend college life in Tokyo, even if said jail time is with some profligate kid who doesn't know what to do with his money. "Go ahead and tell everyone. I don't care."

The door knob wiggled and Sasuke's second roommate entered. The one who sleeps on the upper deck. The snoring, sleep-talker, dumbbell-addict Naruto. Sasuke is literally below the enemy. How the three of them got together during the second semester was a mystery.

Tameiki Dormitory used to be a loners' society: single rooms, personal spaces. It used to be Sasuke's sacred haven. Now, he lives with two other guys who don't clean after themselves from scratch papers, to fabric fluff, to dirty laundry, to the repugnant shower drainage. Despite the cons he could fill a thick journal with, pros were the room being spacious with a convenient bathroom, three utilitarian desks, three separate working tables that kept him from rubbing elbows with anyone hell-bent on finishing their craft, and two industrial sewing machines in top condition which meant time alone as compared to working with others in the tailoring studio at school. No one knows who owned it and his roommates preferred to be out and social.

Keys swirled on Naruto's forefinger. He wore the usual finger-less gloves and studded leather jacket combo, flashing a bright smile. His lip piercing shimmied and sparkled.

"Hey. 'Sup guys?" The trail of muddy footsteps stamped by his combat boots caused Sasuke to flinch.

"Yo, 'sup Naruto," said Toneri "Long day, huh? How was the pictorials?"

Sasuke gave him a perfunctory nod.

Naruto is a rival he wants to crush. The half-Swiss, for one, is a very talented designer. Even for a freshman, five of his canvas jacket pieces has been selected for _BiBi_ Magazine. He's currently balancing school and selling custom-made jackets online. Being the son of a fabric manufacturer and convenience store chain owner made his roomies free dry goods beneficiaries. Sasuke has taken to the privilege and waits upon the day he could bite the hand that feeds him.

"It's cool! I learned a lot. It's totally different for a magazine 'cause it's one dimensional,"

Naruto has a habit of explaining with his hands, a maestro of orchestra with his words, he seemed to think, though what it truly does is get on Sasuke's ensemble of cranky, varicose nerves.

"So you really have to _focus_ \- keep an eye - on the impact of the look like boom! Like really grab attention, from the head of the model to the tippity toes. Even if there's nothing there, something should be happening, you get what I'm saying?"

He's the kind who dyes highlighter yellow on their natural blonde hair and though everyone is entitled to their own style but in Sasuke's opinion - and he can't be contested about it - the brown whiskers tattooed on his face makes him borderline human trash.

"My sweet, something the matter?" Naruto called to his girlfriend who's taking long outside the hallway.

"I can't get the mud off my boots."

Sasuke stiffened at the sound of her voice.

"Ugh, my fingers are getting dirty."

"It's fine. Come inside. Sasuke keeps our whole place clean, you know. I'm sure he won't mind."

"Eh? I'll feel bad. Let me just remove my boots."

Sasuke yanked Toneri's arm. "Go away." The other young man pleaded like a starving white otter in pure Italian silk boxers. "Sakura, it's fine." He said it loud enough for her to hear.

Her vermilion pediicured foot stepped in and a pastel pink hair peeked at the door. Light seemed to dance in her jade green eyes, brightening the whole room.

"Hey Sasuke, Toneri..." She smiled showing the small of her tongue. A bead of metal gleamed on her cherry-colored taste buds.

"Hey," they answered in unison though Sasuke's eyes lingered a bit longer at her just as she did at him.

"Too late. Already took them off." Her long legs strutted to the opposite end of Sasuke's bed, lithe and almost feline with each discriminatory step. She wore a denim micro mini-skirt and as she crossed her legs, her toes across pointing at him, Sasuke turned his gaze away. "What's the deal with you two lovelies? Are you into SM play right now?"

Sado-Masochism would make quite a theme.

"Heck, no. Toneri's playing M by himself."

Sasuke imagined her with a black choker and fishnet stockings. Then, she'd snap a cat-o-nine-tails with those red nails of hers symbolizing passion and pain. She always felt dangerous to Sasuke because she looks at him in a particular way, wild-mannered and assertive, the green leaving a lot of things to imagination… Maybe a wild cat stalking by the edge of the forest.

She pushed her weight down her shoulders, enticing him with her bones, the skin of her neck extended by the low plunging neckline of her loose knitwear.

"Darling Toneri, do me a favor and put some shirt on. You got a beautiful lady in the room." Her cropped bob swayed as she tilted her head. "The future face of Fogue, right here."

One cold, drizzling afternoon, the budding model's unabashed confidence stole Sasuke's attention the first time he saw her waiting by Naruto's Zucati Diavolo parked outside the school gates; she's got no plans of giving it back, it seems. Turtleneck jumpsuit with bold black and white print, her wet hair, her bursting pink bubble gum, her cold, fierce eyes and the resounding slap of her hand on Naruto's apologetic face. He's been secretly drawing her since.

"Oh, Sakura, Sakura. Don't you find my elegant form enticing to say the least?" Toneri took on queer, gymnastic poses earning Sakura's hearty laugh. "I did Russian ballet 'til I was ten."

"Stop it! What would Boutiqlo say of their heir apparent? Your dad will be wanting a time machine just to make sure you're never conceived." Sasuke couldn't help the amused smirk building up. Sakura took notice. She always seemed to notice. "Sasuke though," - her eyes were daring him - "Sasuke's quite a looker, isn't he?"

He chuckled at her comment, shaking his head because he just might take her seriously. He knew his effect on girls but coming from someone drop-dead gorgeous like Sakura is unreal, expanding, ascending...

"Sasuke's popular for sure."

Naruto exited the toilet, shuffling muddy boots on the mat and Sasuke can only imagine what the bathroom floor looked like. He flapped his leather jacket, lashing hard whips in the air before putting it on.

"Girls try to approach him at school but he always hangs out in the library. Most of the time, he shuts himself here to do work. Scholars… They're always on a whole different level of hard work." He paused to look at Sasuke's torso mannequin. "I can tell that's a splendid right there. That right there?" he half-turned to Sakura and pointed out for emphasis, "That's what I call _real_ , honest-to-goodness sewing." Naruto cupped his chin, circumspect. "Though I must say. That cut going with the cowl neckline and the gray, too Dalph Lawren - it's somewhat... You have this thing, you know" - his fingers snapped - "You always make it predictable. Try to experiment a bit. In the future, if it doesn't work for you, you can always work for me." He winked a blue eye at Sasuke.

"Thanks for the offer," Sasuke muttered, jaws tight. "I still have a lot to learn. I'd like to call it a culture of excellence, Naruto. And shut myself? Since when? I go out when I need to. With purpose. Not senseless gallivanting." His legs shook, craving for another smoke.

"Damn, did I hear that right?" Toneri said, and for a while now, though Sasuke was trying to ignore it, a mischievous look on his face like he knew some dark secret was becoming more apparent. "With purpose, Sasuke and I are going to Chronos Club tomorrow night. It's his reward. He's gonna help finish my patterns."

Sakura gasped. " _The_ Chronos Club?! VIP nightclub, crib of the socialites?" She sided with Naruto, sliding her fingers on his leather forearm. " _Boo_ , I wanna go too."

"Sasuke's a cool guy, isn't he Sakura?" Toneri forcibly massaged Sasuke's back in a futile attempt to pacify him. Sasuke sent him a death glare but he seemed over it. His smile was knowing and calm.

"Chronos Club? Only Toneri has a pass there. I don't have connections." Jumping keys jangled on his palm. "Well, I _can_ , but not that easily."

"Sure! You guys are invited. It's all because of Sasuke though. Because he's helping me out on my patterns tonight. Ouch!" Sasuke had elbowed him hard on the abdomen.

"Why, thank goodness Sasuke! I could kiss you right now!" squealed Sakura.

Sasuke felt his chest constrict a bit but he knew Sakura was just saying it. She's just that kind of city girl.

"Bye guys!" She blew Sasuke a kiss as she went out the door.

The room was silent after she left.

"What did you do?!" Sasuke's fists clenched in inexplicable anger. The desk erupted.

"Well I saw you have a thing for her." Toneri nudged him by the shoulder. "I'm sure you're more her type..." He whispered: "More than Naruto."

Sasuke rubbed at his temples. "Fine."

Toneri had the widest grin.

"We're out of coffee, why don't you buy coffee? Black. School's vending machine."

"Are you kidding me?!" Toneri skipped classes that day.

"I won't accept any other coffee." Sasuke heard his roommate groan. He sat facing his desk, eyeing the box of cigarettes beside the sewing machine. "We're staying up all night." The light from his study lamp glared.

* * *

 _II._ _Cherry, No Cherry_

Evening the next day, Sasuke wasn't feeling up to anything; the coffee kept him alert for classes but he felt dreadful; the tuna onigiri he had for dinner didn't sate the hunger he felt throughout the day. But Sakura wore thigh-high lace-up gladiator stilettos. And smoky cat eyes. And he just had to go. She killed him even with a trench coat on.

Also because Toneri lent him a shawl lapel Sungh Lhuhwran tux jacket.

Just the feel of the black and gold tone, virgin wool-silk blend hanging on his shoulders have transformed him, transmuted his past into that of an unbridled man of high standards who gets what he wants anytime, anywhere. He paired this with slim fitting dark denim pants, ankle boots and white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top showing a silver chain necklace.

Sasuke got out of Toneri's car and Naruto soon arrived after with Sakura hugging his back. Even the booming sound of his motorcycle was telling how much of a highfalutin he really is and Sasuke swore that in three years, it will be his creations garnering all the praise and admiration at the annual graduates fashion exhibit; his cerebral, sophisticated approach will raise the bar; Naruto will be left to bitterly bite the dust with his unorthodox but more-often-than-not democratic philosophy.

"I say this again, but you look really good, Sasuke." Sakura's white teeth peeked in between matte lavender-gray lips. As she unbuttoned her dark coat, Sasuke got his tongue tied. The burgundy bodycon dress with a cutout panel wrapping low around her shoulders expressed her bones in the right places. It told him she did not belong to anything in the world; at least, not to Naruto who placed his hand dangerously low on her back.

A high pedestal shall be rightfully hers. And she will only look at him.

The night spilled away into flickering purple and blue lights, gigantic lava lamps with protozoan shapes floating in bubbling fluid, high-tech steampunk crystal chandeliers bigger than a house, and EDM. Sasuke grabbed the last piece of sushi on his plate while observing Chronos Club patrons on the dance floor below which was made of glass encasing an elaborate, phosphorescent, moving machinery - more of art than functional - resembling clock gears. Some women would give him the eye and he'd just look away disinterested out of habit. If the party goers weren't so fashionably inclined Sasuke would've deemed his time hopelessly wasted. Toneri was disgracing himself with gawky moves and a drunk red face in a red dress shirt. To think that he often spends a thousand yen for that kind of self humiliation.

 _His family's fortune is wasted on him._

Naruto is surrounded by giggly women, probably models like Sakura though they didn't seem like amateurs, and as usual, he had a smug smile on his face.

 _At least he had sense not to drink since he's driving._

Sasuke seemed content running personal commentaries in his mind as though a superordinate individual amongst lowly masses. He nestled more comfortably into the hovering magnetic lounge couch downing a bit of the Rising Sun Toneri ordered for them. They're considered minors but the _Richie-Rich 500_ company heir laid some rich boy card on the table and got away with it though the thrill doesn't make Sasuke dislike sweet Shochu any less. Or cranberry. The foul taste lingered on his tongue. It made him slightly hot and lightheaded.

Someone rub up on his back and the couch wobbled. A pink hair rested on his shoulder. Sweat and heat emanated from her body. She grabbed Sasuke's drink and gorged it down in one go, shook the glass and let out a refreshed sigh on Sasuke's face. Her breath smelled like mint and cherries.

"Don't drink too much. You'll get drunk. Drink. Drunk." She laughed lamely, pressing her chest on his back. "Toneri's totally wasted."

"I think you already are." Sasuke didn't dare move. Their balance seemed hanging by a thread.

"Naruto's with other girls. Grinding their bodies at him. Like worms! Cougars! And he lets them, damn it!" The bottom of the glass slammed close to breaking on the LED coffee table.

When he didn't say anything, Sakura pulled his face close, their nose almost touching and she looked deeply into his eyes. Blue, laser green and red licked her skin. Their knees collide.

"Tell me Sasuke, am I not beautiful?"

With the thumping beat of the music in the background, his heart pounded loudly on his chest. Truth rolled out smoothly from his smirking mouth.

"Wrong question. Were you ever _not_ beautiful?"

Natural and effortless inexperienced flirting.

She seemed pleased, lips quirking wickedly at his confession. Her fingers ran through his raven hair, playing with his locks, drawing heat and friction on his sensitive flesh. Closer, their lips met but just before he could even savor the moment, she pulled back and said:

"I gotta go retouch."

As she picked up her clutch bag from the opposite couch, it bobbed like a skiff in a pellucid lake. She gave him a sidelong glance, poised, emphasizing the curve of her butt and moving her knee upwards to tease him with her skirt inching higher. An enchantress and definitely not benign. _Is it the golden axe or the silver axe?,_ he could almost hear her say. After she left, he felt a thrilling kind of unease; feeling like he wanted more but not really knowing what.

Sasuke went to the men's restroom to rid of the Shochu's aftertaste. He tore a luxurious paper towel from the stainless steel holder mounted on the polished basalt mosaic wall to wipe his mouth, but not the prideful grimace of his reflection. He just got kissed, by Haruno Sakura no less and there was an ego boost to it like a stick of cigarette but nowhere near addicting.

"What were you doing, Sakura?! Those men..." Frantic footsteps.

His hands slowly crumpled the used paper towel. Sasuke knew that voice.

"What?" Her voice was filled with nonchalant spite. "You can do it but not me?" Her footfalls were even and elegant as she paced.

"No! You know I wasn't! You're making me lose my mind, you know that?!"

Then Sasuke heard them struggle. Sakura was making muffled noises and his blood boiled - Naruto was hurting her!

He dashed out the men's restroom only to find Sakura's arms wrapped tightly around Naruto's neck, melting in the heated exchange of their mouths and tongues.

They sequestered themselves to a dim corner of the somber abstract patterns snaking along the wall. He could see Naruto's hand up her thigh, then underneath, making her moan.

The sudden urge to vomit came to him. The whole evening was truly a waste of time. He needed to get back to the dorms and work or punch on something.

He searched for a particular messy mop of platinum blonde in the midst of a whole raft of dark and bright colored hairs, glitters and a mélange of expensive perfume on the dancefloor where the acoustics pumped and squeezed his agitated chest, only to find him back in the lounge couches with two random girls giggling with champagne flutes reeling in their hold.

"Who's that _handsome_?" One of the women eyed him head to middle and bit her red lip in a suggestive manner.

"Hey, Sasukeee," Toneri's speech was slurred but he got up to go to him before almost stumbling on his feet. Sasuke caught him and got a sniff of his foul breath. He probably drank more than just Shochu. "Girls, Sazke. Sas', girls." Then a _hic_.

"Come, sit with us, baby boy," the other faceless female creature urged while spilling out her overexposed, man-made cleavage.

Unsettled with disgust, he snatched Toneri's lanky arm. "Let's go."

"What?" Zappy electronic percussion blared in the background.

"I said let's go!"

"What? Nooo!" Toneri growled like a grunge rock band lead, his eyeballs almost turning over its sockets. "The night is yoooung."

"You're overtly drunk anyway. What's the point? You're wasting time."

Toneri shook his face, blinking wide at Sasuke. "I'm still sober. Damn. I have to be drunker than this. Sasuke, come on... Enjoy. Relax." He slammed the shoving weight of his arm on Sasuke's shoulders, leading him near the terrace to get a full view of the dance floor, then waltzing across the VIP room.

"See this... Women. High-class women. They're not like the girls you see at school, or, or Sakura."

Sasuke's eyes steeled at the mention of her name. It reminded him of Naruto; what the two of them were doing at the moment.

"They're together. Now, does that concern me? Of course, it doesn't!"

"Aw! You mean like, _sex?_..."

It still surprises Sasuke how Toneri can easily say the word. Even early Japanese ancestors didn't dare name the act.

"Damn!... Well, no matter." Toneri shrugged. "See anyone you like? Huh?"

"Let's go." He plucked Toneri to head for the staircase.

"You weren't even looking." Stunned as Sasuke was, Toneri managed to wrench his head as easily as a faucet valve. "Look beyond what you see, Sasuke. Beyond what you see."

The blinking lights blinded and the loud music began to take its toll on his hearing. He couldn't look at anyone in particular especially with Toneri's hands gripping on his face like heavy duty metal clamps.

"Beyond what you see... It's from that movie with a lion falling off a cliff. Best quote I've heard my entire life."

Sasuke was going to say an incredulous _really?_ in retort but a woman in a sheer, backless mid-length dress with a curved metal choker and metallic geometric paneling extending from the small of her shoulders to the waist, caught his eyes. She was sitting on the bar by herself. Their eyes briefly met and she flittingly looked away. She looked back - smoky, rare opalescent eyes - and her glossed lips held a mysterious smile as she took a sip on her martini.

"What about her, Sasuke?" Toneri whispered like the devil on his ear, "A mature woman with a glass of martini and an interesting choice of outfit, won't you say?" He paused for a bit as if thinking then ignoring whatever. "Never seen her before but you have impeccable taste, young man. If I were normal, like _normal_ , I'd say you're too young for her but I'm Toneri, bro. And when Toneri says go for it," - he slapped a wad of cash on Sasuke's chest - "you go for it."

Toneri straightened Sasuke's collar, tucked the money on the inside pocket of his coat and attempted to groom him further by ruffling his raven hair. The two of them watched as a man sat beside the woman. She expressed disinterest and the man had to go away.

"Ha. Peculiar and feisty. That was Hatsumoto Jun right there. Dad got him to endorse last year. Definitely good for the business. Got thirty percent increase in sales, mostly from female buyers."

"Let's just - " He swatted Toneri's hands away from his rich, dark mane.

"Which makes it quite a challenge for you, my man Sasuke. Way older than you, but does she look like some kid's mom? Hn? With that bod, I don't think so."

Metallic details trimmed her lower back, overlapping into the tight black skirt of the dress, giving an emphasis to the shapely curve of her hips.

"Think of it this way. If you can get through her, you can get through anyone... Through anything. A man like you deserves more, Sasuke."

Toneri's cornflower blue contacts darkened. The last statement resonated with Sasuke deeply. "You have a way with words. I might be giving you less credit than you deserve."

"Go." Toneri flashed him a conniving smile.

He thought about what to say to her, how she's got eyes reminiscent of affable, local politician neighbors back in Konoha Village. He scratched the idea. They say first impression lasts. It has to be something cool, a quip to engage the mature, femme fatale. But before he could even reach the bar, she walked away. The bartender called out to the mysterious customer and waved the clutch she left behind.

"I'll give it to her," Sasuke offered.

The bartender with a scar on his eye gave a sardonic smirk.

"I know what your thinking. Hatsumoto Jun thought the same and was devastatingly turned down. She's got a smart mouth, that one. Seems to me like the kind to be wanna left alone. See this?" He tapped on the bar counter near a glass of martini. "Didn't even drink. She's got a bit of a witch." He dunked the tubular sequined clutch of intricate floral-mechanical fusion design on Sasuke's open hand. "I don't know you, son, but unless you think you're better than Hatsumoto Jun, just get on with what you have to do and don't bother."

"Interesting," said Sasuke. A haute couture of organic melding with inorganic, smooth turning rigid formulated in the complexity of sequins and beadwork. "Thanks for the advice."

"Tattle and you just might lose her."

And just as the bartender predicted, he lost her outside the club.

The air still held vestiges of winter. With fingers stuck deep in his pockets, he went looking around near the entrance lined with velvet ropes and flashing paparazzi cameras where the music from inside blared, to the parking area filled with expensive cars where the volume slightly tapered off.

"You've got something of mine," declared a sonorous voice.

Sasuke turned and the femme fatale walked close to him. There was something about her, about the way her black long hair is hung over her left shoulder; the air of power, the sharpness of her smoky eyes with its pure moon-like cores beneath the dark fringe; something about her constricts his breath. He's a stranger yet her gaze told him she's more than capable of reading his mind.

"I… came to give you this, _ma'am_." He almost stuttered and he cursed inwardly for failing to up his game - he never had a game.

She laughed. Like smooth raindrops, elegant as the way her sexy feet walks in strappy stilettos. "I hate that. Makes me feel old. Though I like polite young men. Perks of being Japanese, I suppose. It's hard to get away with." She held onto the clutch and her nails were finely cut, clean with no paint. "How about elder sister? There's more consideration in that, don't you think?"

"Oh, absolutely," Sasuke agreed and his jovial response seemed strange even to himself. He cleared his throat. "I apologize, elder sis…" He can't remember the last time he called anyone elder sister. Elder brother but it had been a long time too.

"I'm Sunny." She held out her hand. Her arms were lightly toned with muscle underneath the crisp black blazer hauled over her shoulders.

He reached out and gave his best tantalizing smile. "Pleased to meet you, elder sis Sunny. The name's Uchiha Sasuke."

"It's courtesy to give you my business card but sadly, I didn't bring any."

"Oh, I don't mind, it's fine." Yet again, the jolly hint in his voice seemed strange to his ears. His stomach suddenly growled loud. He blanched at the betrayal of his own body. However, he decided he liked the sound of her laugh and though he had inferred her to be someone who lived overseas, the way she covered her mouth is very _yamato nadeshiko._

"It has been long since I've been here and I would really love for someone to show me around. I don't know. Hn." The gust of air blew strands of her hair, casting silhouettes against porcelain. "Tokyo Tower? Perhaps grab a bite, or two along the way."

A tinge of blush from when she laughed showed on her cheeks and her languid fingers stroked down her hair. No wedding ring.

"Are you up to the job, Sasuke?"

* * *

 _III._ _Coffee, No Coffee_

They stopped at a cheap, rustic diner. If he were to choose, he'd never bring someone like her to a place steaming with grease and savory aroma but it was Sunny's suggestion. She told him she used to frequent the place way back her college days. Vigorous scraping noises of crockery rattled from the kitchen and the customers sitting on the ramen bar slurped on their steaming noodles like roaring vacuum cleaners.

"Two bowls of oyakodon." Her smoky eyes shimmered as they surveyed the menu. She totally stood out. Too glamorous for the shabby place. But there was a sense of wonder and excitement in the way she uttered the names th food. "No, definitely not ramen."

Her eyes cut to Sasuke, holding a glint of mischief and amusement. "Take off your jacket, darling."

He was slightly taken aback but his sangfroid never failed to mask hidden sentiments. He supposed she is just that kind of city woman. Though in a strict context, one would have to be in a relationship to call a man like that. He took off Toneri's tux anyway.

"That would be all. We won't eat much." She handed the menu to the young waitress. "Before I forget, two orders of the signature tomato salad please. Thanks, Ayame."

The waitress looked shocked. "Do I know you, ma'am?"

"Oh. Um, you're the owner's daughter, right? Ayame's Ichiraku, the name of the diner? Don't mind too much, I just assumed." She tittered coolly. "Isn't it like popular practice for businesses to be namesakes of children? Mind you, you'll find such things across the globe. All humankind long for a sense of continuity and legacy. Business owners are no exception, unless… by some twisted fate the inheritor declines, no?"

"Right." The girl deadpanned. "Two orders of oyakodon and tomato salad. Drinks? Water?Barley Tea?" She surly sneered, tapping a pen on her list. " _Coffee?"_

"Definitely not coffee." She looked at Sasuke again as though heeding for some clues in his reactions. "Just tea."

The young waitress's eyes narrowed at Sunny as she went away to take care of their orders. _"Gaijin,_ " she muttered under her breath.

"I love tomatoes, in case you value that kind of information," Sasuke said.

"Good to know. Though I think I love them more than you do." Her peach gloss smile brimmed with youth and Sasuke could never gauge her age. At first he thought she's over thirty-five. Then, twenty-five. _Twenty. Nineteen?_

"You don't drink coffee? I love coffee."

"Coffee's no good. Especially when you're under a lot of stress." Her thumbs twiddled with the rest of her fingers fitted to cross each other. "Someone important to me," she wryly smiled, "My late husband, actually, loved his coffee. He would get severe palpitations in the middle of the night. His hands later had this nervous tic. I could be blaming it all on coffee but it saddened him when he could no longer draw the way he used to."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sasuke allowed himself to just accept information and the more she reveals snippets of her self, the more he is drawn to her. There was more depth to this woman, a well of artistic inspiration just from the changing moods of her eyes. He was intrigued about the unpredictability of her character. He recalled Naruto telling him of his predictability. "An artist?"

She nodded, touching the corner of her eyes with slender fingertips. "But he was more than that. He was a visionary. And kind, though he didn't seem like it. But he went away far too early. That's why if you have dreams, don't drink too much coffee." Sunny chuckled minutely at her own story, trying to find humor in the gloom. "I don't like turning maudlin over it."

"What's that? On your wrist." There was orange light forming digital numbers running a countdown on a transparent material strapped to her skin.

"Oh, it's a sort of a smartwatch." She brought her wrist down below the table.

"On a countdown?" He raised a questioning brow.

"You're fast and sharp." She brought her hand up again. "It's embarrassing but this woman has a strict curfew to follow."

"Really?"

"Yes, and because of that I only have limited time for fun. Do you understand what I'm saying?" She leaned closer to him, her long, shiny hair trailing the wooden table.

"I do." Sasuke wanted the Ayane waitress girl to wipe the table again. There could be persistent grease sticking in there somewhere. "Though I apologize I'm not doing a very fine job."

Somehow, it got easy to talk to Sunny. The bartender was so wrong on so many levels. Busy women like her just didn't have time for bad company.

"Indeed." Her lips curved slyly. "You have to try harder."

The nice chat continued even after dinner. She comfortably hooked her arm into his as they passed by the geyser fountain and promenaded along the lantern-lit path of a small park a few minutes away from the train station. She was capable of making him talk about himself. Like soulmates, they have similar tastes in film, architecture and painting - though he never told her he only saw prints of works by Picasso and Pollock. They rode a train to Minato City. Sasuke observed her zoning out, her fingers against the window as though feeling the gales rushing forward as the train sped up. The fluorescent lights from the roof shone on the soft line of her tilted jaw. Diamond laces swung on her ears. His touch tracing the red small veins brought her attention back to him. She held his hand. It was warm.

Afterwards, they went up the Tokyo Tower. She walked barefooted on the viewing deck, looking down the glimmering city lights. He carried her blazer, clutch bag and sandals for her and with his height towering over Sunny, suddenly, he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Or maybe an unknowing child entranced by the pied piper's song, captured by the fixation to follow behind, absorbing into artistic inspiration the beauty of her naked back and ankles and the shape of her pinkish feet.

"You're not terrified of heights?" he asked.

"No. I like this view. I think of the people below. How small we really are. Our problems and grief vis-a-vis how big the world really is."

"Hn. Most girls are scared of heights."

"I didn't grow up in concrete jungle. There was a time in my life when I loved climbing trees."

He simpered from the base of his throat.

"Sunny, my dear, I don't believe you. You're a queen, but I don't give a damn."

Pretentious but effortless inexperienced flirting - emulating _Done_ _With The Wind._ Liberating western sensibilities.

She turned sharply, giving him a seductive look. "Dropping the honorific, are we, _Dhett Butler?_ You said 'most girls'. Do you have experience with girls? Sasuke?"

Sakura. He didn't want to make her count anymore. He can go on pretending with Sunny.

"Maybe."

Sasuke walked closer to Sunny until she was pressed on the glass. She smelled of lavender and now in proximity, he picked up notes of vanilla.

"Is that so?" A flash of jealousy bolted across her delicate features and bold eye makeup. "How about women?"

She looked sharp and business-like, a dangerous femme fatale that the mellow sweet-softness of her scent surprised him at first.

"If I say none, will you do something about it?" The smirk on his mouth was desire animating things unknown to him.

Her eyes darkened. "A total zero then." She smiled as her hand crept up his neck, playing with the soft edges of his hair, lightly brushing her lips against his like she'd bite. Her hot breath on his lips but it doesn't touch. He whined.

He was poor and deprived, diving eagerly and headlong.

She smirked breathless. "I know you."

Sakura? What is Sakura? It's the name of a flowering tree, a national symbol to Japan. And that's what it was. His lips touching the bark of a tree, because he's a patriot, a lover of his country, of nature; of everything! And it's all because he finally knew the authentic form of a kiss. Through Sunny's wet mouth, like night and day, like authentic cow's hide versus leatherette.

Before he came to and made sense of rationality, he was stripped down to a towel around his waist. He had finished his turn and he could hear the shower probably drenching down Sunny's shapely curves. They checked in at a budget love hotel in a sketchy neighborhood with a nice, pint-sized view of the tip of Tokyo Tower and now that his mental capacities are slowly returning after being blown to bits, he thought about whether something in the bathroom would greatly displease her. The cheap tiles with spots of mildew, the low toilet seat or perhaps the small soaps. The bath towels might make her flawless skin itch. He swiped the bed for any smidgen of dirt.

It was Sunny who grabbed his hand into the hotel's run down entrance. The LED signage that said "Haa Haa" blinked like a dying old man, and though she didn't seem to mind, he can't help but feel unsettled at the precipitous contrast of the poor, seedy accommodation and her regality. The cash given by Toneri could've enabled him to bring her to some expensive place.

The silver knob of the bathroom creaked. She emerged with semi-wet hair cascading below her shoulders. Her bare face was beautiful and her generous bosom jiggled slightly as she slowly sauntered up to him. Sunny let the towel fall to the floor. His brain stopped functioning again. He was always into beautiful, protruding bones and long, slender limbs but with Sunny's breasts, round like a pair of juicy, scrumptious fruits in front of his face, cold sweat coated his hands.

"Won't you touch me?" she asked in a sultry, needy alto, "Sasuke."

He burned. A castaway stranded, parched and famished on Haa Haa island.

Their night together went on with her guiding him what to do and she would encourage him with her moans and her fingers tugging at his hair, her lips bestowing galvanizing kisses on his skin. She pleaded him, helpless and desperate, to do things to her in the all-consuming heat of their union, calling out his name. He was so lost in her. He whimpered writhing and gripping hard on the sheets, close to tearing when she gave him a head and never in his life did he feel so vulnerable and revered at the same time. His eyes were tight shut. He hurt his throat when he futilely tried to hide the ecstasy of the moment.

As Sunny dozed off peacefully, he ran his hand on the smooth skin of her back side, contemplating the events that happened within just few hours into the night. He craved for a smoke. The intimacy was dizzying. They're practically strangers but he had let her into something even he didn't know about himself. He just had his amazing first time with an older woman - possibly just a few years younger than his own mother - and he doesn't know what to think of it.

Sasuke got out of bed and groped for the cigarette case on the back pocket of his pants folded neatly on the chair. He took one stick out, opened the window and lighted it. The flame from the lighter subtly glowed in the dark, biting on the cigarette tip. He blew smoke into the late midnight wind. A beeping alarm sounded from an unknown source. Sunny sat up and she stared at him. She tapped on her unique smartwatch and the alarm stopped.

"Are you smoking?" she gravely asked.

The smoke rose from in between his fingers, higher out the window.

"As you can see."

"Put it out." The blankets left her and her naked body was open to his scrutiny - the marks he left on the woman's skin.

"Sorry." He stubbed out the stick on the window pane.

"Nnn." She pulled him by the waist and tucked her head under his chin, kissing his chest. "It's not that…" Soft, gentle, sucking kisses. "Stop smoking. Forever."

He felt wetness blossoming on the skin of his chest. "What's the matter?" Sasuke lifted her face, wiping her tears with his thumb.

"I think I'm just… happy. I never had you quite so young and innocent… Back then, it was always Sakura San."

His forehead wrinkled. He slightly pushed her away, hands firm in her shoulder blades. "What are you talking about, Sunny?"

Her wide tearful eyes were searchlights trying to find something lost in him and she wrapped her arms around him, fiercely kissing like she'd never have enough. They ended up having sex again.

She was on top and he was panting heavily from release. He avoided looking up, his eyes focused on Sunny's dancing breasts because he'd see himself on the huge mirror installed above the ceiling. Sunny got off and laid by his side.

She caressed his face and took a long look at him. "I became your fallback. It just happened." Frozen like etching his flushed, panting face permanently inside her eyes. "You don't have to understand. What's important is that you'll promise me you'd stop smoking. Please."

He tried to even his breath. "Are you gonna tell me how you knew Sakura? I thought we didn't know each other. She has nothing to do with me. I don't understand why you said that."

"You know me," she softly said, her lashes sweeping long shadows down her cheeks. The alarm beeped again. The counter flashed 10, the second meter below shifting fast. "The people at Chronos Lab might hold me responsible for time anomalies but as long as you keep it a secret, nothing will happen. They won't know."

His face was beginning to show early signs of irritation.

"This is me. It's Hinata… It's Hinata, Sasuke," she said, the dialect of Konoha rich in its sing sung tone on her tongue.

"You're playing with me!" He jerked up. "You're lying. Just because I'm a teenager doesn't mean you can insult my intelligence, Sunny. That doesn't even make sense." He began seeing similarities. But Sunny is years older than Hinata. "This is… _crazy._ But your eyes—Are those contacts?" And Hinata's a country mouse scared of climbing trees.

"They're real. And I am Hinata."

"What's this all about? You're making me confused, you know that?"

Sasuke left to dress himself.

Sunny wailed on the bed.

The beeping broke in again.

"Agh. Five minutes!" She stood from the bed and jumped up to his back, hugging him tight.

"I think you need a psychotherapist, woman. Whatever this is, whatever it is that you're up to, I don't care. I appreciate that you took care of me but that's it. I'm tired of people having dibs on what I should think and do."

"I missed you, Sasuke."

"Why would you miss me? We'd never met."

"So much. Everyday, for eight years."

He could feel the frantic beating of her heart.

"But in five minutes, the time space continuum gateway will no longer sustain the energy needed to assemble future matter in this timeline... I'll disappear. Please, just listen to me. Even just like this." Her soft breasts was pressed hard on his back. He sighed and retreated his arms attempting to slip on his undershirt.

"Don't smoke. Don't drink too much coffee or alcohol... Do you know? I didn't drink but sometimes when I just felt so unbearably lonely, I learned to drink... But I'm alright now. Attending the local church was a great help. You know, the one near Kusakabe's bakery? The shop's closed down now but just before you drive past the playgrounds to Ren's kindergarten, it's there, if you could remember. Y-you'd hate me but I-I… I used to leave Ren in Ma Mikoto's care. There were days when I just couldn't… But that was before. He's now fourteen and he looks a lot like you." She sobbed and her tears mingled with his sweat. "He's doing fine in space academy. Says he wanna work for galaxy exploration. And he's just as determined as you are. He missed the occasional catch ball… Not that you'd know about that. About him. You don't know right?" Sunny crouched on the floor. "Oh, God." Her palms clasped together as though in prayer. "I am so stupid. I knew you wouldn't. I knew."

Sasuke sat on her level and as astounded as he is by the mention of a Ren who's a teenage boy looking so much like him, and his mother, and the mature, beautified version of his plain faced neighbor whom he'd push into mud puddles just for kicks as a kid, apparently, time travel is a thing in the future.

"I-I ended up hurting myself." Pure agony contorted her red rimmed eyes. She smiled through trembling lips. "I was sure I'd be happy just seeing you from afar but I missed you. Terribly. It was tearing me apart."

And apparently, he is Sunny's late husband. Who drank too much coffee.

Sasuke didn't know how to comfort people but he could hug her at least. It wasn't compromise. He really liked Sunny a lot. Or Hinata to be precise. Which is weird. His arm mechanically patted her head.

"Sasuke, promise me you'll eat healthy, regularly. Three times a day. Make it a habit, okay?"

He decided to go along with it. "Okay. I promise."

"You had a bad case of gastritis. It was sad watching you suffer." She nuzzled his neck. "Promise me you'd stop smoking, and drinking alcohol and too much coffee. _Villains._ You couldn't be stopped and they took you away from me."

That's probably impossible. "Okay, I promise."

"I love you."

Sasuke didn't know how to respond to that and he just watched the intense, fragile emotions leaking from her eyes.

"There are limits to this technology, but if I'm never back… it only meant that I moved on, for Rennosuke. Be happy for me. I'm trying really hard. And I love you so much. I will never forget as long as I live."

Her legs began to dissipate like mosaic pieces. She was data being recalled back to her own time.

"I love you too," Sasuke replied. Though he couldn't fully mean it at the moment, the love in her eyes told him the Sasuke from a different time would've told Sunny just the same.

"Thank you. I'll treasure that, Sasuke. I'll treasure this night." She kissed his lips and though the lower part of her body was fading away, the heat of her skin still enveloped him. Her eyes were gentle as she combed her fingers through his hair. Her warm palms ambled leisurely on his head and though he didn't like other people touching his hair, he let her to it. "About Toneri Kun. Never think you owe him anything. If you do, you'll end up slaving yourself for Boutiqlo… For fifteen years, darling, and though you never said it, I felt you had regrets. Just as your brand was finally getting the attention it deserves, a few years later…" She looked deep into his eyes, "You were balding in your death bed," and kissed his forehead.

"I really missed your hair."

Then she was gone.

First thing that crossed his mind as he sat shock-stricken on the floor was what he just made passionate love to. It wasn't a bloody process, but Sunny literally melted away in his hold. Moments later, as his own fingers forked his raven hair, the news of his future balding. He wondered of its inevitability; whether the future can be changed.

Suddenly, he was in the middle of a bleak, silent room.

Remnants of her, the pewter strappy stilettos, the blazer, the dress; it all began to fade. He grabbed the dissipating dress and sniffed on Sunny's balmy scent to imbue the memory of his first woman. The label said Sasuke Uchiha in letters of the English alphabet with the Chinese character for lotus in between his name

Φ

SASUKE 蓮 UCHIHA

 _Hasu. Ren._

Sasuke Ren Uchiha. Since when did he have lotus in his name? He liked the tiny red white symbol though. Like the red white fan of the Uchiha crest. It was the only one thing he found fascinating about his family. That for peasants living in a primitive rice planting village, they have a crest of their own.

As he was zipping his pants, his cigarette case and wallet secured in his back pocket, Sunny's sequined clutch bag remained on the chipped coffee table. He opened the bag to check its contents. The velvety interior was empty. No Zaab or Fhanel. Not even Brada or Kucci. Just nothing.

The bed bounced as he laid back. His expressionless face floating in a sea of crumpled white sheets with Sunny's elaborate clutch on top of his chest showed on the mirror drilled to the ceiling.

Pungent musk and lavender.

Warmth on the mattress.

He fell asleep.

* * *

 _IV._ _Sunny, Not Sunny_

The shaggy old man over the counter eyed him warily. As soon as he handed back the room key, he was asked: "Where's the woman?"

Sasuke isn't one for small talk but even he doesn't know the answer to that. He wished he knew but people just don't melt and disappear.

"She went ahead."

The man burst out in laughter and spanked the vandalized countertop with a rolled porn magazine. "Damn, son! Unlucky night, huh? Better luck next time but get your act together. Guess you couldn't hold it out against her..."

For Sunny and him, there won't be a next time. He felt it. If she moved on, she said she will never be back. Sasuke knew that the modern implication of moving on is not about an exodus sojourning for greener pastures to feed the whole village or changing apartment units.

"Shut up."

"Cocky brat. No wonder she went looking for another shag."

Someone not Uchiha Sasuke.

 _Sophistication, sophistication_.

He managed to walk out of the building without hitting anyone or anything. A harsh, cold wind greeted his face.

The midnight blue sky was lightening and Sunny's empty bag swung like a heavy pendulum. The train station entrance had just opened up and the platform was still eerily silent he could hear howling emptiness breathing from the railway tracks. A plastic cup got accidentally kicked by his right foot. He picked it up and threw it down a nearby non-biodegradable trash bin. He saw someone light a cigarette and his back pocket itched. Bitter side stream smoke ruptured in the air and with his full cigarette case splayed out in his hand missing one, Sasuke remembered Sunny's tears like the glimmering dim lights refracted by the sequins embedded on the clutch weighing down his other hand. The biodegradable trash bin's hole eyed him morbidly, turning into gravity lurking within an abyss. He stuck the cigarette case back into his pocket.

"Agh! Pardon, miss! My huge apologies!"

Boxes made slow thuds on the concrete floor.

Sasuke's ears quirked. He knew that manner of speaking. He knew what it meant, every word - the tongue of his village, source of his shame. To his horror, Sunny's clutch dissipated.

"Huge apologies! Huge apologies!" said the frantic voice in Konohan dialect. "I-I have hanky in my pants pocket but I can't. T-there's too much in my hand - I can't. Huge apologies!"

Sasuke turned to the source of the commotion and he saw her in the same old pudgy look - grandma mufflers, a big coat with silhouette not fitting for man to wear, booger-yellow jersey sweatpants, duck butt pixie cut. There stood Hyuuga Hinata balancing rolls of fabrics, plastic folders and shoe boxes in her arms, and she just made someone spill Starducks espresso on themselves.

"Hey, look here, I don't have time for this but _you_ have to pay for _this_ ," crabbed the aggrieved party.

More people started to arrive at the platform and the embarrassing scene was becoming scandalous. Sasuke decided to step in.

"I'm sorry for her accident," he said, his eyes fixed on the angry woman. "I'll pay."

The woman blushed, assuaged. "D-do you know her?"

He smirked, knowing what it would do. "It doesn't matter. A stylish woman like you shouldn't walk around looking like that." He took the stranger's hand to put paper bills there, and he knew what this would do as well. "For the coffee and dry cleaning."

"W-well then, I'll accept. Just remind your friend next time not to bother people." And the woman walked away after that, stealing glances at Sasuke.

He picked up the folders and boxes on the ground.

"S-S-Sasuke K-kun… S-Sasuke Kun… I-it is Sasuke Kun r-right?" Hinata chirped.

"Quit it, Hyuuga." Sasuke continued picking up the fallen items, not sparing the shaking girl a glance. "Why are you here? You've got no business in Tokyo."

"I-I have. B-business. I-in Tokyo."

"Stop stuttering! You know that pisses me off."

"G-got t-that," she cleared her throat, "Got that, S-Sasuke Kun."

"Why are you talking like that?" he asked noncommittally. He picked up the last folder and a paper fell from in between. "You understand when I talk yet you still use that."

"L-like what?"

He turned the paper.

It was a CAD of Sunny's floral-mechanical fusion clutch.

"Like that, Hinata. You reek of Konoha." His forehead crumpled in visible lines at the illustration.

"There's nothing wrong with it. I know nothing about how, I understand people in Tokyo but I cannot speak it. I cannot speak how it is spoken." Another box fell again. "Oopsies. Get that one, please… B-but you can. Sasuke Kun is amazing. Amazing by a huge mile.

"Always," she whispered, biting on her lip.

"This." He pushed the paper close to her face. "Why do you have this?"

"I-I made it. With Badobe. At school. Then I made a bag with that. My friends taught me."

"School?"

"Y-yes. Same as Sasuke Kun. Hinokuni Fashion College."

There's no way that Hinata and fashion would ever go together. It baffled him how she got admitted in the first place. She was talented with graphite and ink, well-versed with realism and its stiff, confined aesthetic. And that was all she was. Sunny's clutch wasn't that. It held originality and a gripping statement.

"Never seen you around." He picked up the half-opened box fallen on the ground only to find Sunny's bag inside. He took it out. It was the same exact magnificent thing. "Where are you going? I'll help you carry those."

Together, they rode along the Yamanote Line to Shibuya. Sasuke didn't have classes that day so he thought he could spare some time. The train wasn't crowded and the two of them sat side by side, two meters apart. It's one thing to say that Sunny was Hinata, but that Hinata is going to be Sunny was another distant, improbable, faraway dream of smoke and mirrors.

The people she called friends who taught her Badobe got her pulling an all-nighter on what's supposed to be a group project. Sasuke had always known Hinata to be such an easy prey. A pushover who never complains. Nothing changed except for the dark blue color of her hair. When he asked about it, she told him she lost at a Pocky game, refusing to kiss a girl - or anybody - which went badly for her because she's a teetotal. The dark blue hair punishment was quite considerate from Sasuke's point of view – since it didn't serve to make or break anything. He told her not to cling upon the hope that every person she'll meet will be as considerate as her so-called friends. She merely smiled and told him she knows, and he'd rather look at the blurring gray building tops than her smiling face. He retired long ago from tripping losers into mud puddles.

Coincidentally, Sasuke found himself walking along the paths he took with Sunny. From the train station, to the park, to Ayame's Ichiraku, except that Hinata led him to the back door of the diner's annex.

"Um, Master Teuchi who grew up in Konoha and his daughter Ayame San." She pointed at a father daughter picture beside a boxy television as they passed by a crammed living room. "Both are busy in the restaurant but they are good people. At first, Ayame San thought I was a foreigner. My classmates did to. They thought my eyes were fake. It was very funny. In Tokyo, you can have fake eyes."

Sasuke had to lift his boxes up just to pass behind the unnecessarily huge couch. The whole house smelled of beef, fatty broth and spices.

"Come inside my room," she crooned, like she was going to show him something really special.

A kotatsu with a bowl of mandarins on top sat in the middle of the small room. A pink futon was neatly rolled on the side. On her study table was an orderly pile of books and magazines and a small mirror. Colorful paper chains decorated her windows draped with white curtains. Beside a small plastic bureau were some food boxes and two pairs of shoes placed on top of a mat.

"I didn't know you clean." Sasuke let down the shoe boxes with clutch bags on the floor. "What would the village mayor say."

"I-I clean too!" Hinata squeaked. "And cook, and wash laundry and dishes and sweep and -"

"I get it. Your servants didn't do all the work, right?"

"Um, Sasuke Kun, please sit on the kotatsu. You'll be warm."

He slipped off Toneri's tux and spread his feet inside the blanketed table, his toes wiggling and crackling inside his socks.

"Does Sasuke Kun want to drink something? Water? Or do you like Byakult?"

"Byakult?" He was thinking she'd ask tea. Sunny was alright with tea.

"I-I have Byakult in the re-refri-fridge. I like Tokyo Byakult. Konoha has no Byakult."

Sasuke snorted, peeling a mandarin orange for himself. It's early morning and his stomach's probably going to complain but he's bored and he's got questions. Questions only Sunny can answer but he's trying to find in Hinata.

"You don't need Byakult. You can digest anything. I remember you eating rice field frogs with Neji. All five of them. And you were totally fine."

She turned red. "T-that's rude Sasuke Kun! T-that was only one summer! Don't make it sound like I eat live frogs. We grilled them, is all. It was nice to my mouth and stomach, is all. You should eat some."

He merely glowered at her, chewing slowly on a piece of orange, its sweet citrus juice bursting on his tongue, spilling some on the table cover.

"M-my apologies! I know you don't like jumping frogs… Ah! I know!" Her sullen face brightened. "A hot milk!" Yet again, Sasuke thought Hinata was going to ask tea. "I'll make you a hot milk and maybe some toasted bread with the toaster. Breakfast?"

"No. I'm eating at the dorm."

"Only hot milk then and toasted bread?"

His legs were getting snug and comfortable under the kotatsu. "Whatever, Hinata. I'm not imposing but if you insist."

"I understand," she replied, beaming at him.

After the door closed, he got up and took Sunny's clutch from the box. He stared at it until Hinata went in carrying a tray with three slices of toast set on a small plate and two glasses of steaming milk. She placed them carefully on the table.

"Did you think of this yourself?"

She sat opposite of him on the kotatsu. Jersey brushed against denim. "Yes." She took a sip of milk and blew raspberries for her scalded tongue. "Hot-hot. Be careful Sasuke Kun." She blew ripples on the creamy surface through reddish puckered lips. Then she peered at him, glass bottom up. "Um… um… Do you like… What does Sasuke Kun think?"

"I think its different from how you usually are," he said and seeing Hinata licking milk on her lips got him staring at his own glass. It's not like he's lactose intolerant. _So childish._

"Different? Hmm. I think that too." She watched Sasuke finish his own glass of milk. "I think the way I looked at the world changed. I miss everyone in Konoha and I think of the flowers, the trees, the rice fields. Green, red, yellow, orange. All kinds of colors at once. And then the stars at night. A whole lot of beautiful stars I cannot count with my two hands. But in Tokyo, I don't see the things I remember about Konoha. I see a lot of new, strange things I know nothing of and they scare me but I want to know more. That's why I began drawing shapes and patterns that remind me of Konoha. Out of the sadness in my heart, I think of Konoha in Tokyo. It's two things becoming one."

"Fusion," Sasuke said in English.

"Ah, yes. My teacher used that word. _Fusion._ She said I am doing good work and it made me very happy."

He munched on some toast. Seeing that it turned out good was an indicator that Hinata does know how to use a toaster. "Good for you. I think its very well thought out." She seemed to have matured a bit from the last time he saw her, waving her diploma, teary-eyed because she was able to graduate high school all thanks to him teaching her Calculus twice. Only twice. And her eyes leaked like he just saved the whole damned village. "It's well made too."

"T-thank y-you." She smiled furtively though Sasuke knew she's head over heels.

He knew.

"One of my friends has a lot of pretty sequins and beads. We used it for our project."

"You mean I and not we." He was onto the last piece of crispy toast, bits falling into the jade green ceramic plate.

"They said I should do it because I have goods hands." She giggled. "'Good hands' sounds funny but that's how they say it. The truth that happened? Aunt Mikoto taught me. I didn't know she could make really beautiful beadworks and sequins and embroidery. She's Master Mikoto now."

"She can do a lot more than that. More than school uniforms and uniforms in general." Sasuke's eyes cut to the lace window curtains fluttering from a passing wind, frail but hanging still. "You didn't tire her, did you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh no. Never." She stood up to properly close the window and keep the cold breeze out. "Uncle Fugaku is always busy in the fields but he takes care of Aunt Mikoto. For our project I just let her show me some things… Ah! I almost forgot." She scrambled to the pile of brown boxes set beside her bureau. "Aunt Mikoto sent you this."

When Sasuke opened the vegetable box she gave him, it didn't have vegetables inside. Only knitted scarves, quilts, a mason jar of pickled plums and a letter. "Um, there were cabbages and tomatoes and some cucumber but, but I-I-"

"You ate them all, you glutton."

She bowed her knees despondently in front of him. "Aunt Mikoto gave them to me because you didn't go home and she was worried. You didn't write or call. Aunt Mikoto gave you the telephone number of our house, didn't she? I-I didn't want to be a food hogger but they were gonna rot and I couldn't give it to you."

"Why not?" he asked seriously – because it was a grave matter. Vegetables are not cheap to begin with.

"B-because you're always with the richest people. My friends said that Uzumaki and Ootsutsuki are among the richest people in all of Japan. I follow you and see you everyday with them. It suits you being friends with them that's why I couldn't." Her thumbs twiddled.

Sasuke folded orange peels and miniature sprinkles of zest sprayed like smoke. It smelled like cigarette too. Sunshine slowly crept into Hinata's room and he sulked at the thought of starting the day squeezing orange peels – he was that bored.

"Um, Aunt Mikoto told me to tell you," Hinata started and Sasuke wasn't trying anything to hide the boredom on his face, "Elder brother Itachi is doing well in work on the ship. She asked if you were living well in Tokyo, if you have been able to receive Itachi's money in the bank."

"Since you stalk me everyday, you know the answer to that." He wiped his wet fingers on the kotatsu.

Hinata squeaked, crawling under the table. Sasuke took his legs out.

"W-w-why d-do you know t-that?" cried her muffled voice.

"You said it yourself, stupid… Let's not talk about Konoha and people anymore."

Her yellow Jersey butt stuck out.

"Get out of there."

"I cannot face you, Sasuke Kun. I am ashamed! You can go home now. Don't see me anymore. Let's be strangers."

He kicked the table but she didn't stop crying and the scene was a bad reenactment of a yakuza too cool to collect illicit loan payments for a boss who charges inequitable high interest from an orphaned minor who can't pay her parents' debt.

"Get out so I can take your measurements."

Her head eventually emerged from the kotatsu like a hobo larvae coming out of its sleeping cocoon. "A-are you making me a dress? Just like before?"

"Why would I? I'm just taking measurements of someone with your body type." And because said orphaned minor is left with nothing but the clothes on her body, "Now, strip," the cool yakuza man would say.

"My… My body has changed." Her head craned down. "It's different from before. I am embarrassed about it."

"That doesn't matter. People have different body types. A great designer considers these things along with season, functionality, preference and trends," Sasuke chalked up from rote memory.

"B-body type?" She slightly shivered. Hinata shed off her jacket and thick knitted sweater leaving only a loose cotton shirt. Her arms shielded her chest.

"Give me a tape measure."

Hinata rummaged on a cookie case from her bureau and handed the tape measure to Sasuke. With her back turned to him and her arms spread sideways, she asked what is a body type and what kinds are there with a child's curiosity.

"Big and small," he answered. And while it wasn't the whole truth as books would often discuss more elaborately, it wasn't a total bogus either.

 _Bust. Thirty-seven and a half._

"I'm big, aren't I?" Hinata asked with a shakiness to her voice.

 _Waist. Twenty-five and three sixteenths._

He was absorbed into taking measurements, pasting it to memory and didn't indulge giving Hinata an answer.

 _Hips. Thirty-six point seventy-five._

"Girls at school are very thin and have normal looking chests and bottoms, whereas I… Pa said something about marriage just because my body is of a woman's, more like. Not a young lady's. I feel ashamed about it."

He knew what her breasts looked like, what his acquainted hands did with Sunny's the previous night and Hinata bringing up the subject of chests and bottoms was doing bad things to him and he'd be a full-fledged yakuza man collecting payments from a minor with a woman's body.

"Trees," Sasuke hurriedly blurted out because nothing had come to mind. "You hated climbing trees, didn't you?"

"Why do you ask? Sasuke Kun is talking weird." She sniggered and he was onto the length running the crest of her shoulder, down the midriff. "I don't hate climbing trees. Do you remember? When we were kids? I always get scared climbing down but Sasuke Kun loved climbing trees with elder brother Itachi and I just didn't want to be left behind, is all."

"You cried like a pipsqueak." And he tried to refocus, he really did, fixing his eyes the small black lines instead of the metal hooks of Hinata's bra visible through the thin white shirt.

"And you were always mean." She turned thinking Sasuke shared her giggles, but he immediately set her back straight and she was reverted to staring at the wall, talking by herself while Sasuke measured the length of her lower back to the back of the knees. "Even after elder brother Itachi left, you only went after high places. Not just trees. I thought the last time I'd see you was the graduation that's why I was really happy when the letter for my school admission arrived. I wanted to see which high place will Sasuke Kun reach outside of Konoha. You will definitely reach that high place, won't you?"

"That goes without saying. I will make it my reality." While nothing was flamboyant about his Tokyoite choice of words, Sasuke felt choked. Because while they were few, he meant every word.

"Some boys from class used to laugh," Hinata continued, still in Konohan dialect, "When you sewed uniforms with Aunt Mikoto and drew girl's clothing instead of working in the fields. Your father and uncles don't understand. The neighbors laugh and talk and they don't understand. But even if the whole village denies what you know about yourself, I always believe you Sasuke Kun. You are able to reach high places no matter what you do."

He wrapped the measuring ribbon around her neck for the circumference of a neck piece. Lavender scented shampoo on her boyish hair. Hinata didn't use lavender. Just like Byakult, Konoha didn't have lavender.

"You smell like ramen."

"How did you - ?" The petrified look on her face reminded him of how they were. "P-please d-don't tell anyone I work."

Cat and Mouse. Predator and prey.

"I-if the school officials know, I'll be…"

Sadist, masochist. Yakuza and a helpless, womanly minor.

His hand tipped her jaw. His mouth, hard, pried open her mouth.

Sweet. Milky. Unresponsive to his tongue.

His cold fingers trailed slowly on her stomach. Slowly upward. Not letting Hinata catch a breath.

 _Butterfly taxidermy._

" _Faster upwards! North! Hot, hot, hot, delicious north of Sunny!"_ a testosterone-packed portion of his brain cheered.

 _Soft and naïve._

Just a bit more and he'd be called a pervert.

At the end of the day, he is not yakuza and it took a few mental chants of "sophistication" to detach himself from the immersive delinquent role.

"I like women with long hair." His hand chopped on the naked skin of Hinata's lower back. "About this long."

She gasped, life coming back to her chest.

 _Still but a caterpillar._

He had to remind himself that Hinata is not Sunny and it was an ice bucket poured on his face. Because Hinata is plain-faced and unappealing and…

 _At least, not yet._

He cursed at himself because something changed.

And her eyes looked at him the same way Sunny did. Even when she was just a fallback. For eight years, torturing herself with Uchiha Sasuke like he deserved that much.

He draped the tape measure on her stiff shoulders, snagged Toneri's tux from underneath the orange smeared kotatsu and shuffled to the door with his mother's vegetable box tucked beside his arm.

"If you graduate at the top of your class," the door creaked, "I just might seriously consider marrying you, Hyuuga."

Before her kissed rictus could say anything, he had shut the door.

* * *

 _V._ _End, No End_

By the time afternoon came, Sasuke's favorite sewing machine chugged and drilled like a machine gun aiming for genocide. As per routine, he should be reading Fabric Manipulation by now but it will have to wait some other time.

"What do we have here?" Toneri went in unnoticed and he managed to get his hands on Sasuke's untouchable sketchbook.

The sewing machine continued to pound and drill and spurt thread into the black fabric which Sasuke unflinchingly guides with a strong sense of command into the immaculate stitch. "Your money's in your drawer."

"But why? You didn't have to. Don't tell me you didn't get laid 'cause you weren't home by morning. I'd seriously pay just so you could get a lay. That's how much I love you, bro." Toneri's voice moved away and Sasuke could barely hear him now over the sewing machine's hustle and bustle. "Take a look at this, you guys. The woman. And I don't know if he wore her out or she wore him out," then he guffawed.

Sasuke swiveled the tip of the fabric nailed by the metal needle and worked the electric machine to sew over the previous stitch. He steered the fabric over to him and ran another short backstitch for a neatly secured hemming. After meticulously cutting the thread with small scissors, he turned to Toneri who was actually sitting with Naruto and Sakura on his bed, browsing over his sketchbook.

"The cat's out of the bag, Sasuke," Toneri declared with feigned shock on his face. "Look." He flipped the sketchbook over to Sasuke with a drawing of Sakura wearing his gown. "I never could've thought. Like never… You've been secretly drawing the future face of Fogue!" Sasuke could tell that Toneri's just waiting for some drama to happen, and he will not oblige. "What have you got to say to this, Naruto?"

Naruto seemed pensive and Sakura is concealing a smirk that dared him to say something, her eyes alluding confident interest.

"I don't want you guys to fight," said Toneri, though his eyes glinted with some sort of trigger happy malevolence.

"I wasn't trying to hide it." Sasuke gracefully reached for the plastic bento box containing tomato slices. He lanced the food pick on a small piece to put inside his mouth. "Sakura's gorgeous," he said, and he chewed like he was eating a million yen caviar.

"Yeah?" Naruto removed his fingerless gloves and leaned his elbows on his knees displaying a patriarchal stance. "But she's my girl. I don't like anyone eyeing her."

"Look, Naruto." Sasuke crossed his long legs and he transfigured to a debonair count with goons and a firing squad at his disposal. "I shall triumph over you come our turn for graduates' fashion exhibit but that is all I'm taking away. Sakura was such a muse and that's all it'll ever be. I'm certain you know about this, that the thing with muses is they come an go. One time it grips you hard, squeezes you breathless, drives you mad and then… the inspiration of the muse leaves you. Then the artist settles for another thing. Sakura as a muse was just another disposable thing. You get me."

Naruto smirked with amused disbelief. "Oh, I get you. It's officially on. And I never lose, you bastard."

Sakura did not looked pleased. Her jade eyes turned fiery, threatening to scowl. "This is about last night, isn't it?"

"What about last night?"

"The kiss," she answered promptly and Toneri and Naruto held tense gazes.

"What kiss? I gave you a small compliment and you call that a kiss? You're better than that, future face of Fogue."

"Sasuke," Naruto warned. Sakura who was livid, close to tears, stood from the bed in abrupt and sashayed her way out the door.

And there they were, the debonair count eating his red, fruity caviar, the problematic lover posing for Rodin's The Thinker, and the devil with a gawky cherub's façade.

"You," said the problematic lover, his breath shaky and fuming at the injustice of the merciless count's cruel deeds. "How could you, Sasuke? You don't even know her. Sakura, she's, she's… delicate!"

The lover sealed his fate with a door atomic bomb which startled even the count and the devil, wondering if they'll end paying for a quick fix, and he will not be seen until later after suffering abuse under his damsel's wrath. The end.

Sasuke turned his attention back to the sewing machine. "Show's over, Toneri. You got what you wanted. Now scram. I got work to do."

"I tell you, Sakura's toxic. If they end breaking up by tonight, at least I'm doing Naruto a favor." He laid snugly on Sasuke's bed, flipping through the pages of his sketchbook. "Such a talented guy but a girl like that will just ruin him."

"And then what?" Sasuke scrutinized the finished hems and he was content with how it turned out. "You'll have her to yourself?"

"Wha – " Toneri scuffled to Sasuke's sewing space. "What are you talking about, man? Me? Sakura? I've got all other girls in my booty call list."

"But you like her."

"What? Nooo. Not as much as you like her."

"She's just a passing muse." Though at one point, Sasuke had wanted to posses her but it didn't seem to matter anymore. "Not the girl I'd be jester for every time I see her."

Toneri's fingers tapped on the table. "Never thought you had it in you, Sasu. Seems like the older girlfriend's doing you good. I can't find anything about her though. Which is weird. But I do know that her eyes looks like some village kid at school."

Sasuke titled his head at Toneri's direction, but he made sure to look disinterested. "Some village kid?"

"Same village as you. Her name's Hyuuga Hinata. Went to the same pre-school through high school, same address, same age. Of course you know her. Maybe she's got a clue about your girlfriend's background."

"She's not my girlfriend." He was thinking of having a torso made with Hinata's measurements. "She's my future wife."

Toneri sniggered. "Okay. I support you but let's not indulge too much in delusions of grandeur."

"She came from the future, and just before she went back to the future, she warned about my liquor, smoking and coffee addiction and unhealthy eating habits." Sasuke collected panels for his sheer top and laid them accordingly on the table, carefully fitting them on cut wax paper sheets. "Then she told me something disturbing. About the future state of my scalp."

Toneri grabbed a chair to sit close beside Sasuke. "I don't know what your current muse did to you but were you sniffing crack with her overnight?"

"And then something occurred to me so I checked the foundation who gave me my scholarship. Guess who's the biggest benefactor?" Sasuke took another slice of tomato, chewing slowly before continuing his revelation. "This is your room, isn't it? Even my favorite sewing machine. Me and Naruto. We're your investments."

The sun was going down and the room got dimmer, save for Sasuke's lamp on the sewing machine.

"Believe me, I was only forging our friendship. Bonds that last a lifetime." The breeziness in Toneri's tone dissipated.

"You should be in business school." Sasuke began unscrewing to change the needle and the metal swished. He didn't mean it as an insult but Toneri's silence was indication that he had somewhat stepped on a bad landmine. The other man combed his hair back, revealing a strong pair of brows and eyes sharper than how they usually are. He lumbered to the window, letting the stream of cold afternoon inside the room.

"I finished graduate studies overseas but my father told me there's no degree for human empathy, that I was too calculating." He lighted a cigarette. "I figured loyalty must be earned. You're still naïve, Sasuke. You won't make it out there alone. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you," Toneri blew a puff of smoke into the room.

"I quit smoking."

"Seriously?" The Boutiqlo heir laughed like he's never heard a good joke before. "Is that what the tomatoes are for? You've been had by your muse! Is she a vegan extremist who owns tomato farms?"

"Whatever happens in the future, right now, I wanna focus on fashion school. Don't disturb me unless you want me to move out."

"Oh no, no. Let's not go there. We're friends, alright?" One last billow escaped his lips and he traced a long line on the window pane using his barely smoked cigarette like chalk against blackboard. "Now that you caught me, it's boring. I had fun being the carefree, rich boy stereotype."

"One thing. Lend me your phone," said Sasuke. "I need to call my mother."

"Is that all?" Toneri tossed his hiPhone 9 to Sasuke whose high school baseball catcher experience enabled him to catch it one handed without a hitch. "You can have it if you want. I'm going out."

Toneri's screensaver was a literal tongue-in-cheek, peace sign selfie and Sasuke could only commend the phone's owner for the infallible dedication to the role and attention to detail as he tapped on the screen numbers. He listened in on the ring. "Good afternoon. This is Sasuke," he said in Konoha dialect, and though it has been long, he could speak it effortlessly. "Yes, I have been living well in Tokyo, Missus Hyuuga…" It was Hinata's mother exchanging pleasantries while she waited for the servant she ordered to fetch his mother next door. After a few minutes, he heard his mother's voice on the other line.

"Greetings, Ma. It's me. Sasuke."

(End)

* * *

Daifuku Mochiin Corner! 田

I didn't expect the first of this collection to be so lengthy. I don't think the second one is going to be lengthy.

First of all, no offense to blonde people who dyed their hair yellow and has whiskers tattooed on their face. Borderline human t*h was Sasuke's opinion.

Done With The Wind (Gone With The Wind reference, without being too obvious) - Sasuke in Sunny's timeline was officially done with the wind for eight years. He was breathless. It was something I added later but I guess it worked. Like death (but more like debt) in Dhett Butler. Does that count as a pun?

Naruto and Sakura's hair colors remind me of Arashi and Miwako from Paradise Kiss anime. Naruto with piercings is definitely inspired from Arashi.

I played with a few brand names. Like Naruto's Zucati Diavolo is from Ducati Diavel. Lol. I know it's not funny but… And Sungh Lhuhwran is, um, is from a super famous French brand. (French is hard but I'd love to learn someday. Someday.)

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Thanks to everyone who left reviews on the Breathless! To SilverKitsune2017-senpai, Hawaii unnie, dear guests 1, guest HMAkhlys, Dalisay08, dear guest 2, Splaaash-attack, dear guest 3, guest Fogue, D12D, and StopTeasing! Also thanks to everyone who decided to add Random and Farrago to their favorites and/or follows list. Even though the first in the collection didn't receive wide acceptance, I am so happy and encouraged by your reception guys.

Guest 1: Is Hatsumoto Jun based off Matsumoto Jun?

Yes, he is xD I didn't know who to cast. I wanted it to be a handsome guy. There's no handsome guy in Naruto (for DM) except Sasuke. So I chose a Japanese celeb to project a certain kind of image to those who are familiar with him.

Guest Fogue: Is Toneri the heir of Uniqlo?

First of all, thank you Fogue for all the nice things you said. I got overwhelmed the first time I read it (and many times after). It's the first for someone to say they loved the self-indulgent nature of my writing. I started writing fanfiction last June or July. You could say I'm in the early process of finding my voice as a writer. I have questions like what I am or who am I so I really appreciate your review. I'm sorry there are parts that didn't communicate very well but I'll try to share my thoughts.

For Breathless, I was inspired after reading John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. He doesn't reveal much of the character's inner thoughts but the idea and the image is clear to the reader. The characters move and live inside my brain. I was fascinated about that (and also the use of dialect, hence present Hinata speaking in Konohan) so I tried to portray Sasuke as the anti-social guy who you don't really know what they're thinking about. I tried to reveal his motives through his actions and limited how I revealed what's going on inside his mind. Overall, he's a mixture of different things. He's got superiority-inferiority complex; he's got a certain type of girl he likes (someone who's the complete opposite of his neighbour Hinata); and he's addicted to cigarettes to make him feel sophisticated (or maybe cope with his environment). He's a bit shallow in a way, because if he didn't meet the future Hinata, and saw how gorgeous she could become, I don't think the fact that present Hinata is "the girl for keeps" would even cross his mind. He associates Hinata with Konoha which he deems the complete opposite of sophistry.

Toneri has issues which I didn't expound in the story. Everyone in Breathless is keeping up a façade (save for present Hinata, I think), like role-playing thus "immersive RP": Sasuke's a different guy around his roomates and Sakura, he's different with Sunny, and also with Hinata; Naruto looks like a tough guy but he's actually sensitive; and Sakura is not as confident as she portrays herself to be.

For dear guest Fogue's question, yes Toneri is the heir of Uniq—er—Boutiqlo (didn't want offend the main people of Uniqlo).

He's like a vice in his working as a villain in the story. I had the image of a cigarette when I thought of Toneri's character. I hinted about his "evilness" in Sasuke's book Fabric Manipulation, and his favorite quote being from The Lion King, and Hinata saying she didn't know you can have fake eyes—only Toneri had contacts in the whole story. I didn't include the whole backstory in Breathless but in my mind, his CEO dad wanted him to find trustworthy people to work with in the future, whom he'll trust as well—because Toneri doesn't believe in trust. What he did, upon finding a budding great talent such as Sasuke is offer him a scholarship under a foundation and then portray himself as a carefree, playboy, no-plans-for-the-future kind of guy so that he could easily mingle with Sasuke and Naruto—another great talent. But his true intentions, especially concerning Sasuke, is to create some sort of dependence and ultimately a sense of debt (recall how he gave him money and let him borrow tux, and it will get bigger with time) so that Sasuke will choose to work under him in Boutiqlo.

Ah, my explanation is so long. A one-shot which could span multi-chapters. My mind is so unfocused at times, and maybe I don't know how to really write a one-shot. Thank you so, so much guest Fogue.

For Hawaii unnie and DalisayO8:

I've thought about it and now I have a solid idea for a sequel. But its focus is not on Sasuke but on Hinata this time. I'll share a bit about it. Sasuke kissed Hinata, right? Well, she couldn't believe it and gets embarrassed and very nervous every time she sees him and basically evaded him throughout college until their fourth year (near graduation). Her drunk self from twenty years later visits her. It's not Sunny anymore because Sunny is from the timeline in Breathless. Sasuke changed the future by changing his habits and kissing Hinata. It'll be funny for sure because I noticed how my first two stories in Random and Farrago involved crying hahaha! And sci-fi. I'm not particularly fond of sci-fi. It just happened.


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